Post by Deleted on Dec 2, 2013 23:22:42 GMT -5
Natel
Name: Natel Alias: Hey Hot Stuff Age: Old Occupation: White Eye of Magic Member Group: Demon Playby: Stav Strashko |
I suppose you want to know how I got here hmm? Well I’ll tell you, a long time ago in a galaxy not to terribly far away some god somewhere said let there be life… too far back? Let’s skip forward a bit I suppose. As long as it has been I still remember what it was like to live. To walk about as nothing more than a squishy bag of mostly water.
We were a well to do family, my father a well respected tyrant. Not by his subjects, but by those that mattered I suppose. I was born because his first heir had died, in some strange accident that no one felt the need to check into. My mother was his third wife, that man went through wives like today’s mortal woman go through shoes. She died, or rather was killed when I was quite young. Father never saw fit to keep them around very long.
He sacrificed her to some lower level demon for some favor. What I’ll never know and I can’t say that I rightly want to. Regardless, I was raised by a nanny after that, though my father saw fit to dote upon me often. I was his perfect little heir, groomed to be a witch like my mother and father. Though they were on quite the opposite sides of the spectrum from each other; silly woman thought she could save him.
I took to it like a duck to water, taking more after my mother, to my father’s deep regret. I would not say I was a ‘good’ witch. Good and evil are relative, like many mortal concepts. However I will say I tended towards things that did not inflict mass amounts of destruction upon those around me. Ice magic was my particular favorite, something so beautiful and yet deadly.
I grew up angry, as anyone would suspect. Stubborn, the more my father tried to push me in one direction the more I fought it. I won’t play the saint and say it was because I saw what he was doing as wrong. I was young at the time; my concepts of what was right and wrong were skewed from day one. I just wanted to be the opposite of everything he wanted me to be. It wasn’t until much later when I was older that I finally grasped just how wrong everything he was doing was. Due to my almost inherent dislike for my father, he killed my mother after all, in front of me no less; I was open to the thoughts of many people. It was those people, namely my nanny that helped guide me into doing what I did.
Though in hindsight, it’s always twenty/twenty you know, I doubt that was what she had intended for me. As I watched my father destroy the lives of many around us, I knew I had to do something. I had to stop him before he destroyed everything at least that is what I felt at the time. So I killed him, a grave sin as we are all aware. I used my magic to slaughter him, which was the metaphorical signature on my passage to Hell. I died not long after him, having suffered grave injuries in the fight.
Can you imagine my complete and utter surprise when I was met by Lucifer himself? I’m sure you can’t but let me be the first to inform you, that I have never been quite so bewildered in my life. Not because I expected to go to Heaven, no I was pretty well aware where I was going. I was however expecting to just be thrust into a fiery pit and left to burn for the rest of forever.
Go figure that the devil himself is a damned decent guy. All things considered of course. He picked me up, dusted me off, and set me up with a pretty sweet afterlife. For that I am thankful, but please do refrain from telling him that. I mean, I’m sure he knows, but if you tell him, I’ll never live it down.
All that aside, I’m rather fond of him. Though I’ll tell you the same thing I told him, I don’t need another daddy. One is enough for me, he’s got plenty of other white eyes to play daddy with. So just don’t with the father deal, I don’t want to hear it. He’s my boss, and I’m dedicated to him, death, and my job. That’s it.
I suppose your off to wondering how I feel about things, angels, demons, being locked out of heaven, what my job is, all that glory be. Well one thing at a time now, I don’t much care about Heaven. I really couldn’t be less bothered by it, until it starts causing a ruckus. Angels too, remember me talking about shades of grey, scroll up if you don’t, I’ll wait. Found it, remember? Good, angels are forever falling into those shades of grey. You learn to judge them on a case by case basis; most are assholes in my experience, Lucifer aside. I don’t hate them if that is what you are wondering. Hate would imply that I can build up the energy to care about them as a species. Which I can’t, mind you. Some are good, some are worse than the demons they despise, some are just damn crazy.
Demons are, well demons. Necessary pops to mind, angels and demons are necessary. Demons also fall into those shades of grey, not strictly one thing or the other. Sure you can draw the general conclusion that they are all dickholes, and you wouldn’t be far off. But not all are like that, I mean just look at me. Which brings us to your next question, what does Natel the white eye do in hell exactly?
Well the most succinct answer would be magic. The more elongated and eloquent answer is this; I provide magic to ‘good’ witches. Curious thing about me is; I seem to have the most annoying sense of right and wrong. Oh no, demon with morals, how scandalous.
I am guessing that you want me to give you a little peek into my personality. Which is silly if you think about it, wouldn’t me telling you how I act be the most biased? I am a demon after all, what is to stop me from lying to you? Oh don’t give me that look.
Fine, I suppose if you simply must have a little about me. I like to think I’m logical, can’t say that I always am of course. Sometimes those emotions just get the better of me. I’ve been told I am a smartass, a little too judging, perhaps overly caustic. It’s been said I’m mushy, a romantic at heart, lover of fluffy things and children. I might care just a bit too much at times. I might be a bit too dedicated to my job and Luci-loo. I feel, I am at times, too nice. A bit weak, a bit too soft, especially around those that have earned my trust and care.
There are some particularly annoying individuals that tell me I worry too much. Which might be true but that doesn’t seem to stop it from happening. I’ve also been told I have an exceedingly short temper where some things are concerned. Popular opinion is that I over think things, and read between the lines too often.
I have a fondness for flowers, children, books, and animals. Silly things to find such enjoyment in I am sure, but I do. Thunderstorms scare me, which is ridiculous if you think about it. I live in Hell but I do not much care for fire. I like ice but I don’t like being cold. I get cold easy, I guess it’s a good thing I live in hell.
We were a well to do family, my father a well respected tyrant. Not by his subjects, but by those that mattered I suppose. I was born because his first heir had died, in some strange accident that no one felt the need to check into. My mother was his third wife, that man went through wives like today’s mortal woman go through shoes. She died, or rather was killed when I was quite young. Father never saw fit to keep them around very long.
He sacrificed her to some lower level demon for some favor. What I’ll never know and I can’t say that I rightly want to. Regardless, I was raised by a nanny after that, though my father saw fit to dote upon me often. I was his perfect little heir, groomed to be a witch like my mother and father. Though they were on quite the opposite sides of the spectrum from each other; silly woman thought she could save him.
I took to it like a duck to water, taking more after my mother, to my father’s deep regret. I would not say I was a ‘good’ witch. Good and evil are relative, like many mortal concepts. However I will say I tended towards things that did not inflict mass amounts of destruction upon those around me. Ice magic was my particular favorite, something so beautiful and yet deadly.
I grew up angry, as anyone would suspect. Stubborn, the more my father tried to push me in one direction the more I fought it. I won’t play the saint and say it was because I saw what he was doing as wrong. I was young at the time; my concepts of what was right and wrong were skewed from day one. I just wanted to be the opposite of everything he wanted me to be. It wasn’t until much later when I was older that I finally grasped just how wrong everything he was doing was. Due to my almost inherent dislike for my father, he killed my mother after all, in front of me no less; I was open to the thoughts of many people. It was those people, namely my nanny that helped guide me into doing what I did.
Though in hindsight, it’s always twenty/twenty you know, I doubt that was what she had intended for me. As I watched my father destroy the lives of many around us, I knew I had to do something. I had to stop him before he destroyed everything at least that is what I felt at the time. So I killed him, a grave sin as we are all aware. I used my magic to slaughter him, which was the metaphorical signature on my passage to Hell. I died not long after him, having suffered grave injuries in the fight.
Can you imagine my complete and utter surprise when I was met by Lucifer himself? I’m sure you can’t but let me be the first to inform you, that I have never been quite so bewildered in my life. Not because I expected to go to Heaven, no I was pretty well aware where I was going. I was however expecting to just be thrust into a fiery pit and left to burn for the rest of forever.
Go figure that the devil himself is a damned decent guy. All things considered of course. He picked me up, dusted me off, and set me up with a pretty sweet afterlife. For that I am thankful, but please do refrain from telling him that. I mean, I’m sure he knows, but if you tell him, I’ll never live it down.
All that aside, I’m rather fond of him. Though I’ll tell you the same thing I told him, I don’t need another daddy. One is enough for me, he’s got plenty of other white eyes to play daddy with. So just don’t with the father deal, I don’t want to hear it. He’s my boss, and I’m dedicated to him, death, and my job. That’s it.
I suppose your off to wondering how I feel about things, angels, demons, being locked out of heaven, what my job is, all that glory be. Well one thing at a time now, I don’t much care about Heaven. I really couldn’t be less bothered by it, until it starts causing a ruckus. Angels too, remember me talking about shades of grey, scroll up if you don’t, I’ll wait. Found it, remember? Good, angels are forever falling into those shades of grey. You learn to judge them on a case by case basis; most are assholes in my experience, Lucifer aside. I don’t hate them if that is what you are wondering. Hate would imply that I can build up the energy to care about them as a species. Which I can’t, mind you. Some are good, some are worse than the demons they despise, some are just damn crazy.
Demons are, well demons. Necessary pops to mind, angels and demons are necessary. Demons also fall into those shades of grey, not strictly one thing or the other. Sure you can draw the general conclusion that they are all dickholes, and you wouldn’t be far off. But not all are like that, I mean just look at me. Which brings us to your next question, what does Natel the white eye do in hell exactly?
Well the most succinct answer would be magic. The more elongated and eloquent answer is this; I provide magic to ‘good’ witches. Curious thing about me is; I seem to have the most annoying sense of right and wrong. Oh no, demon with morals, how scandalous.
I am guessing that you want me to give you a little peek into my personality. Which is silly if you think about it, wouldn’t me telling you how I act be the most biased? I am a demon after all, what is to stop me from lying to you? Oh don’t give me that look.
Fine, I suppose if you simply must have a little about me. I like to think I’m logical, can’t say that I always am of course. Sometimes those emotions just get the better of me. I’ve been told I am a smartass, a little too judging, perhaps overly caustic. It’s been said I’m mushy, a romantic at heart, lover of fluffy things and children. I might care just a bit too much at times. I might be a bit too dedicated to my job and Luci-loo. I feel, I am at times, too nice. A bit weak, a bit too soft, especially around those that have earned my trust and care.
There are some particularly annoying individuals that tell me I worry too much. Which might be true but that doesn’t seem to stop it from happening. I’ve also been told I have an exceedingly short temper where some things are concerned. Popular opinion is that I over think things, and read between the lines too often.
I have a fondness for flowers, children, books, and animals. Silly things to find such enjoyment in I am sure, but I do. Thunderstorms scare me, which is ridiculous if you think about it. I live in Hell but I do not much care for fire. I like ice but I don’t like being cold. I get cold easy, I guess it’s a good thing I live in hell.